Do it.
Don’t do it.
Never in my life did I think I’d wager in my head whether to sleep with Chicago Grizzlies wide receiver, Damon Siska.
He’s the perfect package—hot body, killer smile, and flirts like he earned a doctorate in it. But anyone who reads gossip blogs knows he is looking for one amazing night and nothing more.
I’m not the usual type of woman he beds. I’m a middle school teacher who cherishes her quiet nights in, drinking wine, and watching romantic comedies, dreaming I’m the heroine. I’m not embarrassed to admit—I want the fairy tale.
But Damon caught me at a weak moment. Fresh off a break-up and feeling lousy about myself, I gave into temptation and left the next morning like every other woman he’d slept with.
Except I walked away with more than just the memories when three weeks later the little white stick glowed with two pink lines.
